“But…” I swallowed. “But that would make you….”
He nodded.
The demon.
Chapter Fourteen
I ran.
I turned around like a coward and ran out the stable door, trying to put as much distance as possible in between me and the madness that I’d just witnessed.
It didn’t make any sense. How did that just happen? I could have written off Alex’s appearance in my dream as a coincidence, a weird fantasy that my brain concocted and projected on the first gorgeous man that showed up.
But both of them? The other man—Nate, he had called him—was definitely the other one from my dream. I remember it all so clearly… their faces, the way they spoke to each other, the different way each one moved.
And in my dream, I knew, with some ingrained, innate knowledge, that one was an angel and one was a demon.
I got that part wrong, though. It wasn’t Alex that was the angel.
He said so himself.
My mind was rejecting the information, I could almost feel it concreting itself in disbelief, refusing to believe the unbelievable. While I ran the short path back to the staff quarters, I let the outrageousness bleed out of me.
They had to be playing a joke on me.
I made it to the staff quarters and ran up the stairs to my room, slamming the door behind me. Clover had been in, I could tell by the scatter of clothes around her bed. The bathroom, mercifully, was empty, so I went in, stripped, turned the tap on cold, and stood underneath the freezing water. Soon, my breath stopped coming in little pants, and the thump of my heart eased.
There were no such things as angels. Or demons. Alex was trying to make a fool of me. That was the only explanation.
I remembered now. When I was a little drunk on margaritas, he’d asked me what the demon in my dream had looked like. And I’d told him exactly. He probably had a friend that matched the description, and he’d called him in just to make fun of me.
That had to be it.
Angrily, I turned off the cold faucet and dried myself roughly with a towel, taking a few extra layers of skin off in the process.
The nerve of that man! So arrogant, so pushy. He must be trying to gaslight me into thinking I’m going crazy. So if the police were to ask me any questions about the assassin who tried to kill me, I wouldn’t be a reliable witness.
That bastard. I was not crazy. Because of everything I’ve been through, I valued my sanity above everything else.
I got out the hairdryer and started drying my hair. It was always a long and involved process. My hair was so heavy that it started to drain the fight out of me. A lot of my rage ebbed away as I lifted and separated the dark strands with my fingers, tugging them smooth with a round brush. After a while, my hair was dry and sleek, parted down the middle and tucked behind my ear on one side.
I silently appraised myself in the mirror, snarling at my appearance. Without makeup, I did look insanely innocent. I’d learned enough makeup tricks to blend myself into the crowd a bit; some dull-brown gloss made my lips look smaller; dark liner on the inside of my eyelids narrowed my big eyes. I stayed away from blush, preferring to not highlight my already-rosy cheeks. I never wore mascara. That was just asking for trouble.
By the time I was ready for work, I was a lot calmer, and ready to laugh at the joke that was being played on me. I wasn’t going to let these arrogant, rich men take the piss out of me.
Glaring at my reflection in the mirror one more time, trying to seem more of a tiger than a kitten, I turned around in a huff and stomped out the door.
My anger had drained completely now and I was a little embarrassed, so I decided to take the hidden path through the trees to reception to avoid bumping into Alex and his friend. Just outside the gate to staff quarters, I nipped into the bushes, stepping lightly through the almost-invisible path, winding around fallen logs, and ducking under trailing vines. Twice, I heard voices on the guest path, but they weren’t the voices I was dreading. I edged through the bush, taking care not to brush my uniform on any stray branches, moving as quietly as I could.
I was creeping through the thick forest surrounding the pool area when I heard a voice. It hit my ears and sparked a memory I couldn’t ignore. My legs stopped moving.
It was the voice of the other man.
He hadn’t spoken in the stables, so I had no idea what he sounded like. But I had heard him speak before. In my dream.
Where Alex’s voice reminded me of distant thunder, the dark man’s words moved through his mouth like velvet—soft and smooth, deep and gentle. He was speaking, not loudly, but he was close.
I heard Alex’s voice in reply. They were together, sitting on the far edge of the pool deck, probably where they thought no one could hear them.
Without thinking, I edged closer, sneaking through the dense foliage with ease of practice. I didn’t make a sound.
I stopped when I spotted Alex’s profile through the gap in the leaves; as usual, the sight of his face left me breathless. He was scowling, his icy eyes narrowed at the beer in front of him.
“What do you think?” I heard him say. “Is she a Seer?”
“I don’t know.” The other man spoke now, his voice soft and musical. “I thought we had them all tagged. If she is, she’s slipped through the cracks.”
They were talking about me. I angled myself slightly to the right until I could see the other man—Nate. He was exactly like he was in my dream, the clean-shaven jaw, dark hair, the deep-brown eyes.
“She is something, though. I’m just not sure what.”
Cursed, is what I was. But that was not new information.
Nate took a big breath. “And the mind-wipe. She had an… interesting reaction to that.”
I could see Alex frowning. “It doesn’t work on everyone.”
Nate’s smile was beatific. “It works on most people. And those that it doesn’t work on… well, I’ve never seen that reaction before.” His smile grew wider, and he took a small sip of his whiskey. “And I’ve never seen you have that reaction, either.”
I thought I heard the sound of distant thunder; maybe there was a storm approaching. It took me a heartbeat to realize that Alex had growled. “I’m only human.”
That must have been a private joke, because it broke the tension, and they both chuckled for a moment. I didn’t think it was particularly funny.
“Well, she knew us. So she must be a Seer.”
Alex lifted his bottle, took a deep draught, and set the bottle back on the table. “Well, if she is a Seer, she’s not doing a great job.”
Nate shrugged. “No, which makes it weirder. She just dreamed about us? Having dinner, you said?”
“Yeah. It must have been vivid enough for her to recognize both of us. You saw her face. She’d seen both of us before, together, and clearly.”
“What night did you say she had that dream?”
“It was just before I flew out here.” Alex’s voice grew darker.
“Oh. That would mean…”
“Yes. Exactly.”
I frowned again. They had made a connection I couldn’t follow. I held my breath, hoping they would go on.
Nate took a sip from his wine glass and put it back on the table. “I’ve never seen you so worked up about a simple girl before,” he said idly.
“She’s not a simple girl. She’s… something else.” Alex growled the last word and shook his head, as if trying to dislodge an annoying thought.
“She’s human,” Nate shrugged. “Pretty, and young, too. But it usually takes much more than that to capture your attention.” He put his head to the side. “What is it about her?”
“I don’t know.” Alex’s voice was sullen. “She sounds like she’s had a rough life.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“No, it’s not.”
They were silent for a minute. I should have left, but I couldn’t tear myself away. I tried to keep my breathing even.
Ale
x took another sip of wine. “She’s here,” he said softly.
“Yes.”
My heart stopped. Could they sense me? Did they know I could hear them?
In a panic, I turned and ran.
Chapter Fifteen
I still had a job to do. So I was going to do it. At least, while I still had it. It made sense to fill in time before I would inevitably get fired for saying stupid things to our guests and for sneaking up and eavesdropping on them. I hid behind the reception desk all night, taking cover next to the printer when I heard anyone approaching.
Dale covered for me. I concocted a stupid story about accidently calling Alex’s friend by the wrong name, and that I was hoping to avoid them and stay off their radar so they wouldn’t decide to complain about me to Martin.
Dale believed me because he had a trusting and beautiful soul. But he knew there was something else going on. Clover was off duty already; we would catch her at the staff bar as soon as our shift ended.
I was scared. On a mundane level, I was scared of being fired. I loved this job, I loved my friends here. There were no other good hotels within three hours’ drive of Margot’s house. I’d end up at a dodgy motel, and with my luck, I’d be dead in a week.
But further than that, on a spiritual level, I was absolutely freaking out.
I’d been in denial. I had too quickly decided that Alex was playing a stupid game, just amusing himself with the dopey receptionist. But now I wasn’t so sure.
I knew him. I knew his face. And Nate. They had been in my dream, I was sure.
That meant that there was something else going on. Something otherworldly. In my dream, I’d known that they were angel and demon. I’d known it as sure as if the knowledge had always been inside of me.
I’d gotten the order wrong, though. As Alex had pointed out, Nate was the angel. I’d assumed that the beautiful, vibrant blond guy was the angel. But Alex had said it twice. He wasn’t the angel. Nate was.
And that meant….
Alex was the demon.
I remembered the way he’d leaned into the judge, how he’d whispered in his ear, encouraging him to cheat on his wife. That was something a demon would do, wasn’t it?
And the judge died straight afterward. In fact, he died in the process of committing the sin. And Alex was right there when he died.
Collecting the soul, perhaps?
I was having a hard time processing the idea that this man might be completely evil. He had, after all, saved my life.
But that’s what demons were. Evil.
There was a loud clatter next to me, and I jumped four feet in the air.
“Sorry!” Dale rubbed my arm. “I just dropped the stapler. Man, you are jumpy!”
“Of course I’m jumpy,” I muttered. “I’m scared for my life.”
“Just your job, honey. And I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Alex saved you, remember? He saved your life.” Dale took a deep breath and shivered theatrically. “Oh, and he was so macho and handsome, the way he crushed that gross guy who was trying to stab you. I’m going to dream about that forever.”
“I hope I don’t dream about it forever.”
“The point is, he saved your life. He’s not about to turn around and complain that you called his mate by the wrong name.”
“He might think that I’m just too much trouble.”
“You’re not. And you never will be.” He abandoned the stapler and gave me a big hug. It was comforting; I leaned into it and drew a little of his quiet confidence and pure innocence into myself. “You’re just unsettled,” Dale continued, leaning me back and staring at me sternly. “It’s to be expected. Alex Sorensen doesn’t hate you, and you’ve got nothing to worry about. Okay?”
I looked into Dale’s eyes and nodded, trying to make it believable. I thought it worked. Luckily, he was quickly distracted by someone coming through the front doors.
“Oh great, Little Miss Regina George is finally here.” He kept a smooth, genuine smile on his face as he whispered the words. “I was hoping she wasn’t going to show up.”
I heard the clatter of high heels and kept my face turned away from the noise. I knew who he was talking about. Hannah Savage, precious daughter of property mogul and Revelations owner Bentleigh Savage. She came to stay every few months, monopolized the beauty spa, flirted like an idiot with the rich and famous. Out of all the haughty, demanding guests we got here, she was by far the meanest and most difficult.
And she was almost exactly the same age as me, which somehow made it worse.
I didn’t want to turn around, but I knew I’d have to eventually. I waited as long as I dared before I finally faced the clatter of her heels. Hannah stalked through reception like a supermodel on a catwalk, pouting out her inflated lips, flipping her syrup-brown hair back with one hand, flashing her emerald eyes everywhere except for at us. She reached the desk and dumped her Gucci handbag on it unceremoniously.
She didn’t even deign to look at me; as the junior receptionist, and possibly the most junior person on staff, I was beneath her notice. I breathed out slowly, glad that Dale was going to handle her but feeling terribly sorry for him.
“My key, Fatso.” She waved her hand.
He flushed slightly and handed it over. Her emerald eyes flashed—there was no way Dale could say anything back to her without getting immediately fired. And she got a kick out of humiliating him.
With visible effort, Dale plastered a big smile on his face. “Your dad has put you in Kiree bungalow, Hannah.”
“As long as it’s far away from your dumb ass,” she said prettily, finally holding eye contact. “So where’s your slutbag friend? Off shagging anyone she can get her hands on?” She scoffed. “Her fanny must be the size of the Chunnel by now.”
Dale swallowed, but his sweet smiled didn’t waver. “Clover has the rest of the night off.”
Hannah loved to play this game. She’d keep going until she got a reaction. And if she made any of the staff cry, she’d just flip her hair airily and say she was just joking around and they were being too sensitive.
She inspected her perfect ruby nails and sighed. “At least she’s getting some action. I doubt anyone would want to go near your ugly brown ass.”
My blood was boiling. She’d gone too far.
Before I could stop myself, I whipped my head up and gave her a bright smile. “We can’t all be like you, Hannah. You’ve got such a pretty…” I let my gaze drop down her starved body and jutting fake breasts, allowed my smile to wobble, then looked back up at her. “Face.” I grinned at her happily. “You have a pretty face.”
Dale let out a squeak, and in the horrified silence that followed, Hannah’s eyes narrowed as she registered the insult.
“Who the fuck are you?” she hissed, her body twisting with spite. “You’re a fucking nobody. Just a damaged little admin monkey. Some dumb prude who won’t let a man touch her.” Her lip curled. “Fucking ice queen.”
“So you have heard of me!” I gushed, smiling sweetly. “You kidder. I know how you like to joke around. But, Hannah...” I nodded patronisingly. “We are all queens. Not just me.” I pointed to myself, then winked and used my fingers as imaginary pistols, shooting her and making a little pew pew noise. “You’re a queen too.”
I thought I might have gone too far; her face was almost purple, and her eyes were bugging out. Luckily, we were saved by Martin, coming through with the day receptionists. He moved in behind Hannah, who was spitting with rage. “Hannah, darling. So wonderful to see you again.”
She whipped around. “Your little desk rats have been giving me lip, Martin.”
“Oh, my darling,” he murmured. He let his eyes roam over her lustily, looking every inch like he wanted to ravish her right there and then. “I’m sure they’re just jealous. Why would anyone want to antagonize such an”—he gazed soulfully into her eyes—“exceptional woman.”
Her rage ebbed away instantly. God, he was good. Martin hated her
as much as the rest of us, and he was gay to boot. But he’d instantly disarmed her with his charm.
Martin snagged her key off the desk and dangled it from one finger. “Go and settle in,” he cooed. “I’ll send one of the masseuses in to see you.”
Hannah pouted. “Not that Belgian woman this time,” she said, shuddering dramatically. “Her ham-hock arms give me the heebie-jeebies.”
“Of course, mi cara.” Martin bowed gallantly. “Anything you desire.”
Hannah simpered and took the key from him, turned, and shot me a look of pure venom. “You better hope I don’t see your face again,” she hissed before she flipped her hair and stalked off.
As if this day could get any worse. Martin kept his smooth smile on his face and watched her go out the glass doors towards the bungalows. Once she was out of sight, he turned back to me.
“Oh, Eve,” he sighed, slumping his shoulders. “Body-shaming, again? And the boss’s daughter this time?” He sighed again. “I swear, sweetheart, you’ve got a death wish.”
I grimaced. “So I hear.”
“You’re lucky you were almost murdered in this reception a few nights ago.” He waggled his finger at me. “Because that seems to be your get-out-of-jail-free card right now. I just spoke with management—apparently Mr. Bentleigh was very interested in making sure you were okay and that you were still here.”
“I’m not going anywhere unless you make me, Martin,” I sang sarcastically.
He moved behind the desk and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “At least you make life interesting. But please, Eve. Try and stay alive, and out of trouble, for the next few minutes at least.” And he bustled off towards the kitchen.
Dale gave me a nudge. “See, you’re all good!”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I could go and hide in the staff quarters, and somehow try and piece together what the hell was happening in my life. As soon as the day receptionists walked in, I let Dale wrap his arm around me to take me back to staff quarters.
“I wish I could say that that wasn’t so bad,” Dale sighed. “But it totally was. I wasn’t going to drink tonight, but after that visit from Hannah, I’m going to need one.”
Revelations: The Black Chalice (Revelations Series Book 1) Page 11